


The Villain in Your History

by josiepug



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Historical RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, Historical Accuracy, Parent-Child Relationship, Post-Duel, pretty much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 09:59:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5703490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josiepug/pseuds/josiepug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theodosia Burr Alston's father has just committed murder. She has only one question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Villain in Your History

**Author's Note:**

> From the moment I realized that Theo was a young adult at the time of the (in)famous duel, I wondered how she might have reacted. I couldn't figure out where Theodosia was exactly at the time of the duel, but I'm imagining this takes place a week or so after it.

“So, how does it feel to kill a man?” Theodosia Burr Alston reclined in her favorite comfortable armchair, idly bouncing baby Aaron on her knee and fixing her father with a stare that burned. Burr made a very conscious effort not to shift in his seat. That was her mother’s gaze slicing through him from beyond the grave. _I did it for you,_ he thought. _So little time. After your mother, I couldn’t bear to be robbed twice._

“I was a soldier, Theo. This is not the first time I’ve killed,” he said.

Her mouth twisted in that unreadable way that he knew from the mirror. _Hamilton hated that look._ He wondered, for a moment, if his face bore a similar mask. Usually, he would be certain, but today…today he felt transparent, dissected by his wife’s eyes in his daughter’s face.

“In cold-blood?” Her eyes were breaking him apart. He was cool and collected, always, No matter what. That was how he had survived all these years. _His finger on the trigger, too soon, not looking, not seeing the gun pointed at the sky, or did he see in that second and fire anyway…_

He reached for the glass of whisky at his elbow, only to realize that his hand was shaking. He pulled back, hoping his daughter hadn’t seen his weakness. He knew that she had. He tried not to let it bother him. He failed.

“My blood was anything but cold,” he said, finally. It was true. He could still hear the blood pumping through his head, the dizzying fear coursing through his limbs. It was like the war all over again, but worse. In the war, the men had no faces.

“Highly unusual for you.” Theodosia remarked offhandedly, bringing her baby closer to her chest as he began to fuss. She still didn’t look away and Burr found himself damning the inscrutable self control he had passed on to his only daughter. It was patently unfair of her to be so calm, to interrogate him like this when he felt all his own hard-won tricks flying out the window. Even so, he couldn’t quite quell the flicker of pride at his daughter’s deportment, her acuity and her calm composure. When had he become so out-matched by her?

“Perhaps,” Burr tried, in a decent approximation of his usual neutrality. “But Hamilton and I have always had a special form of rivalry, one it seems that fate amused herself with by continually sparking. It was bound to blow up eventually.”

“And she was on your side in the end, then. Fate.” Burr heard the vaguest hint of mocking in her voice, and sudden fear surged through him. _Does she hate me for what I’ve done? Everyone else does._ He had always imagined that she would be with him forever, no matter what. But she had a husband and a son now, and all the education and skills he had given her. A life of her own. And here he was, an aging man, disgraced, those who loved him dead. A mur—

But he couldn’t allow himself to think that word.

He had never felt so desperate to keep his Theo, to make her understand. To make those inscrutable eyes smile. He didn’t know what to do. 

“Fate on my side?” He said, after a pause that seemed interminable, but may have lasted seconds. “I think that that remains to be seen. After all, death does have its benefits.”

Theo’s gaze sharpened still further at that, and Burr had to backtrack quickly. _Good Lord, Hamilton has rubbed off on me. I always used to say the right thing._ “I’m not suicidal. But you know me, I always weigh both sides of the issue. So I did, and I see benefits and drawbacks to both our situations.” His mouth quirked into a humorless smile, and he watched his daughter’s lips thin. _So she doesn’t hate me, not enough to wish me dead at least. Comforting._

“I’m worried about you.” And that was her mother again. Direct, probing. He closed his eyes for a second, cast his thoughts heavenward. _Look, Theodosia, at the miraculous monster we created. She’s going to blow me away._

Finally, her eyes softened. Theo had played her hand, baby Aaron asleep in her lap. She still loves me. He let himself bask in the relief for half a second before bringing himself under control. She was worried about him, and Theo must never be allowed to worry.

He reached for the whisky glass again and this time, his hand was steady. His smile too was back under his control, no longer strange and shaky. “Worried about me? Whatever for? Haven’t you read the papers? I have no remorse. The duel was fair. I won and defeated a long-time enemy in the process. What is there to be worried about? Why, I’ve moved on. I’m probably hatching a plot to overthrow the government at this very moment.” He was relieved to feel his smile hold, his words come out without an ironic twist. Theo needed to be happy. Without that, there was no point to any of it. _Believe me_ , his eyes said, and for just a moment he understood Hamilton’s ardor when he tried to convert the whole world to his schemes. Burr’s world was a bit smaller, that was all.

She stood up, slowly, so as not to wake the baby still cradled in her arms, and walked around to the back of his chair, her delicate hand settling on his shoulder. “How daft do you think me? The papers know nothing about you. You have ensured that, very scrupulously, for years.”

There was nothing he could say to that. He was transparent in a way he had never anticipated and here she was, blowing him away. He desperately wanted to hold onto her, not to let go, but he, like Hamilton, was out of words.

“I have only one question.” She said it exactly as she had when she was a child and he was teaching her arithmetic. It had been rare that even one concept escaped her grasp. She was so brilliant.

“Do you regret killing him?”

He opened his mouth to say, well he wasn’t certain what, but she placed one hand gently over his lips, her voice calm despite its intensity. “And don’t tell me to consult the papers. They haven’t known you for twenty years. I have. Tell me true.”

She removed her hand to allow him to answer. He was glad she was behind him, could not see his face. “Twenty years, eh? Quite right. You don’t need the papers to tell you anything. You already know the answer.” He had gone for joking, but somewhere along the line, it had fallen apart. She squeezed his shoulder gently and sighed, sad or perhaps just resigned.

“Yes. I do. But you’ll never say it, will you? No matter how long you live?”

Burr reached up to hold onto her hand. He could feel the life pumping through her veins. Amidst a myriad of sharp memories and broken futures, he knew only one thing. They had more time, and it would have to be enough.

“Talk less.” And Burr smiled, the real smile, the one that not even his daughter, standing behind him, could see.

**Author's Note:**

> Hamilton makes me so happy. I've had a weird, latent, historical crush on Aaron Burr for several years now and I can thank Leslie Odom jr. for not helping with this AT ALL.  
> Thanks for reading! Please review! Come talk to me on tumblr at www.ast0ryintheend.tumblr.com


End file.
